Here We Go Again

I am at that point with sugar (specifically chocolate) that I was when I gave up cigarettes and then, finally, alcohol.  I am powerless over it.  I have tried to moderate with no success.  I start each day saying, "I'm not going to eat any chocolate or sugar today," only to cave after lunch or dinner when I feel the need "for something sweet".  Then I eat too much of it and I end up feeling like shit...emotionally and physically.

Sound familiar?

Fuck.

I know that, once again, I've just traded one addiction for another. I have to quit but I have no idea how to do it.  Okay, that not entirely true...I know HOW to do it...I'm just not sure I have the balls to get it done.

Excuse number one - there is sugar in the house for the kids and we're coming into catering season at work which means cookies and brownies the size of my head will be arriving at least twice a week.  I can't possibly give up sugar right now.  I'll do it in the Fall.  But then it will be the "holiday season" which will make it impossible to give up sugar so I'll start in January.

I call bullshit.  I gave up cigarettes while my mother, who was living with us, not only continued to smoke on my back deck, but SMOKED MY BRAND.  Didn't matter.  I had made up my mind.  I can be one stubborn bitch.

I also gave up drinking with a wine rack full of wine, a garage refrigerator filled with beer and a cabinet above the sink filled with liquor.  Didn't matter.  I had made up my mind.  Like I said...stubborn.

Excuse number two.  I can't possibly go without sugar forever. Forever is so long - it's too much to think about. Um...aren't I the one always responding to posts and freely giving advice by saying, "You don't have to think about forever...you only have to think about today."  Yeah, that's me.

I hate it when my words come back to bite me in the ass.  I think I just called bullshit for the second time.

Excuse number three...what's left?  I gave up cigarettes and hit the booze harder.  Gave up booze and hit the chocolate like a fiend.  Give up sugar and...what?  Take stock in Starbucks for the caffeine? Move to Vegas so I can gamble?  Join a swingers network for the kinky sex?  Not bloody likely (especially the last one) but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried.  Do I really have the tools I need to move away from needing "things" to help me cope in life?  I really don't know.  And that scares me a little.

Can't call bullshit on that one yet - I'll get back to you.

So now I just have to do it.  I have no idea how or when but it needs to be done.  So to all of my lovely readers (if you're out there), I have a couple of minor requests.

Please excuse the whining and bitching and moaning that may occur in this blog regarding the giving up of the "S" word.

If you know me in "real" life, please do not ask me "how it's going" when you see me.  I'll be grumpy and likely to say, "None of your fucking business" which really isn't very nice.

Please do not judge me if I'm back here writing about this same damn thing in three weeks, three months or three years because I've relapsed.  Be patient with me - this addiction shit is a bitch.

Sometimes I really hate my genes.

Namaste

Strength is the capacity to break a chocolate bar into four pieces with your bare hands -- and then eat just one of the pieces.  ~ Judith Viorst

I just want it to go away...

I had an experience last week that kicked my ass.  My boss' boss came to town for his bi-annual visit (he's on the other coast) and in addition to his buying my team dinner (on the company of course) he had set up 1:1 time with each of us.  Situation normal.

Except that I had spent some time on his coast a few weeks ago and, after a series of events, I mistakenly thought his visit to my coast would bring good news about my career.  Instead it brought a great big kick in the ego that left me with hurt feelings and a really bad attitude.  It wasn't so much what he said (I can be told no, I'm a big girl) but the way in which it was said.  Condescending and rude are two of the words the hubs used after I relayed the conversation to him.  I hadn't thought of it that way (because I was too busy thinking that the reason the conversation didn't go the way I wanted it to go was because of ME) but after some time - he was right.  The guys was a real jerk about it.

Anyway, I came home in a very depressed and sour mood.  I was trying very hard not to cry while still trying to "let myself feel the feelings" as we're told to do in recovery but all I could think was "I just want it to go away!"

Ah-ha!  Gotcha!

THAT is exactly the feeling that used to send me running for the wine bottle.  Running to numb the feelings and make them go away.  Knowing full well that it wasn't going to solve anything but that, for a little while, I could escape into that isolated world where everything goes my way and I'm okay and everyone who doesn't think so is a jerk.  What a spoiled brat I was.

I've been through a lot of feelings these last 41 months but I have never, in all that time, stepped back and seen that moment as clearly as I did then.  It was a feeling that you'd do just about anything to stop feeling.  I knew, intellectually, that I just had to sit with it and then sleep on it and it would go away; but that gnawing in my gut kept wanting me to make it go away.  Force the issue.  Just escape. 

It was really fucking with my zen.

So I just sat in my big green chair and pouted.  Then I did some yoga, tried to meditate (unsuccessfully) and finally just gave in and let myself feel like shit.  I even indulged my inner prize fighter and let her beat up on me for a little while.  Then I went to bed.  And when I woke up I felt better.  The feelings hadn't disappeared but they were at least manageable and in better focus.  I could see them for what they were, not my perception of what they were.  Wounded pride.  Bruised ego.  Disappointment.  Anger.  Frustration.

That's all.  Big deal.  They were not insurmountable.  They were not going to kill me.  They did not impact the kind of person I am and were not a result of anything I did or didn't do.  They were not going to kill me.

And most importantly, they were not, under any circumstances, a reason to drink.

Namaste

Namaste

Welcome.  If you're reading this then I've pointed you in the direction of my new blog so, needless to say, I'm glad you're here.

I've been blogging for about a year and a half as a way to journal and work through issues, thoughts, and feelings.  In other words, my brain throws up on my blog.  My old blog was about getting and staying sober but I'm kind of over writing about that so I'm moving on to maintaining the zen I've found through sobriety and recovery.

(Which gives you a clue as to the title of this blog.  Yeah...I'm clever that way.)

Really, this is just going to be my way of journaling and processing.  Feel free to read, comment or click the little "x" in the upper right hand corner (or the red circle in the upper left corner if you're on a Mac) if you'd rather not follow along.  Just be nice.  Please and thank you.

As always -
Namaste